Red Alert
by Agent M
Summary: Something hinky's going on at the Navy Club. Lifeguards keep turning up dead.  A sulky Abby, a buoyant Tony and a red swimsuit.  More DiNozzo laughs and an actual crime story. Please read and review.


Disclaimer: The usual...Don't own the characters...just inspired by them.

Author's note: Story is complete with different chapters, even tho' it only lists one chapter. I don't believe in separate pages for separate chapters.

Thanks to: Michael Weatherly for choosing to go against his father's wishes.

**Red Alert**

Ensign Thomas Jackson pushed himself into his seat atop the lifeguard tower. This would, hopefully, be an uneventful shift he thought to himself. He had been topping up his salary by working extra hours at the Navy Club. It was easy money – sitting in a raised up seat making sure no one got into difficulties. This was the Navy Club after all, and he found it quite ironic that they would even need a lifeguard. He smiled to himself but his musings were brought to a dramatic halt by a frantic shout for help. Before he had even managed to leave his position, another man had dived into the pool and was retrieving the struggling torso of a young boy. Jackson joined them as the boy was brought back to the poolside and lifted upwards.

Once it was clear that the child wasn't in a serious condition - coughing a little and upset, but nothing major - the rescuer, Lieutenant Commander Garbutt, turned on the lifeguard.

"What the hell are they _paying you_ for?" he demanded. Jackson was taken aback by the ferocious tone in the man's voice. "You're supposed to make sure _that_ doesn't happen."

"Sorry," uttered Jackson.

"Is that _it_?...This young kid almost loses his life and all you can say is '_sorry_'?" The Lt. Commander was incensed. He squared up to the young Ensign.

"Look, sir...I don't know what your problem is here...but the kid is fine." Jackson didn't want any trouble.

The same couldn't be said for the Lt. Commander. He pushed forward with venom in his voice. "No thanks to you...and _my problem_ is **you**...you're just the same as all the others like you...a no – good waste of ..." He didn't get to finish as two security officers grabbed him and began to haul him off towards the changing rooms. He continued to shout as they dragged him out of the pool area. He was to be escorted from the premises.

Jackson sighed with relief, before checking once more on the boy, whose mother was fussing over him, and then returning to his seat which gave him prime viewing position over the entire pool. '_So much for an uneventful shift_,' he thought once more to himself.

The rest of the day, thankfully, did remain uneventful. Jackson climbed down from his seat for the last time and did a quick visual check of the pool area. No one around. He made his way towards the changing rooms.

Once dressed he headed home. He left the building as a few others were arriving, no doubt for their overnight security shift. One of the arrivals accidentally bumped into Jackson as they passed but he barely noticed because his attention was on someone else. He sighed heavily – the sigh of a man completely fed up of doing or saying the same thing over and over again.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked.

"I wanted to see you again. Make sure we know where we stand with each other," came the reply.

"I thought it was made perfectly clear after our last encounter," continued Jackson. He wanted to get away quickly – this was just another delay.

His visitor was adamant that they needed to talk something over. Jackson tried to move past but suddenly remembered he had left his bag in the changing rooms. He turned to go back inside.

"I have nothing more to say to you."

His uninvited guest grabbed his arm, trying but failing to put up much of a fight, when the Ensign pulled away.

"This isn't over!" they shouted before Jackson disappeared back through the Club's doors.

Back inside, Jackson made his way to the changing room, cursing to himself. He searched for his bag but couldn't find it. '_Maybe it's in the pool area_' he thought to himself, although he wasn't convinced. He stepped through the door which took him poolside. He spotted it relatively quickly although he didn't recall leaving it by the steps to his seat. He was still thinking about the encounter he had just had as he bent to pick up his bag and, _because_ his attention was distracted, he didn't notice the figure creeping up behind him.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

"Time of death, Duck?" asked NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs as he looked down at the older ME, who had just plunged a liver temperature probe into the lifeless body before him.

"Give me a minute, would you, Jethro? I've only just stuck it in," came the response.

"Boss? Found his ID...it was in the gear bag over there," Special Agent Timothy McGee pointed towards a navy blue gym bag which lay on the floor by the side of the steps leading up to the pool lifeguard's seat. "Ensign Thomas Jackson...25..." McGee continued to read from his notebook. "Spoke to one of the guards on duty... Apparently Jackson filled in for a couple of shifts now and then...been on the books for the last three months..."

Gibbs looked at him as he continued, "...Last shift was yesterday...finished at 9 pm. Security guard found him on his sweep of the building at about four this morning...pulled him out of the pool and tried CPR before realising he was too late." He paused before dramatically adding, "...According to the security guard..._a_...errr.." He referred to his notebook again, "...- former Lieutenant Junior Grade Alan Thompson - ..._Jackson_ was a replacement for the previous lifeguard who was also found floating face down in very similar circumstances."

Gibbs looked at him. "Why are we just hearing about that now, McGee?"

Tim shrugged. "It seems that the other guard's death was ruled an accident, Boss."

Gibbs sighed. "Time of death, Duck?" he asked again. His eyes moved back to the doctor.

Dr Donald 'Ducky' Mallard got up gingerly from the side of the dead Ensign. "I would estimate that this young man took his _last breath _some time between 9 and 10 pm last night."

"Okay, thanks, Ducky."

"My pleasure Jethro, though I'll have more for you when I get him back home...so to speak." He was, of course, referring to the autopsy lab back at NCIS headquarters. He turned towards the exit, "_**Mr**__**Palmer?**_" he shouted, "A gurney, _some_ time today if you don't mind!" Under his breath he muttered, "Honestly, that boy!"

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Back at the Navy Yard, the Multiple Threat Assessment Center was dark except for the glow of the large plasma screen that filled the far wall. The Director of NCIS, Jenny Shepard, was overseeing an operation to overthrow yet another arms dealer. Gibbs made his way down the small ramp, carrying a paper cup of hot coffee. Jenny smelled his approach. She slid the headset down and stood to greet him. His eyes drifted to the screen, questioning her.

"Need to know, Gibbs...and you don't." Her tone was formal, but her expression softened as she looked him in the face. He smiled back. They'd shared so many memorable moments together, but neither one could determine whether the other was remembering the same one at the same time. Jenny knew for certain that Jethro's mental reminisces would entail hot and steamy details. From the look on his face right at that moment she sensed that he was _not_ picturing her as the Director of NCIS.

"Something I can do for you...Agent Gibbs?" She had a bemused look on her face.

"Yeah, Jen...there is.." he responded. This time _her_ eyebrows raised in question. Gibbs looked briefly at the plasma before continuing, "Got a dead sailor at the Navy Club. Apparently he's not the first. I want to put someone in there – see if we can draw out the killer." His report was concise. Gibbs didn't beat around the bush.

"Were both men murdered?" asked the Director. She knew what Gibbs was like – he didn't always wait until the full autopsy findings were in – he just followed his gut feelings.

Gibbs gave her a '_you should know better than to ask_' look.

"Who did you have in mind?" she asked.

"DiNozzo," came the immediate reply.

Director Shepard smiled, "You think the outfit will suit him?"

Gibbs grinned back, cocking his head to one side and raising his coffee to his lips. "Oh yeah...without a shadow of a doubt."

Jenny nodded her agreement. "Authorised," was all she said. Gibbs got up and left MTAC. As he began to descend the stairs, his cellphone at his ear, he could overhear his team. They were having a debate.

"No offence, Probie, but I _look _better in speedos than you do...All that white flesh?...They might think that Moby Dick has returned...plus..red_ is_ my colour." Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo began to share his reasons for being the one who should go undercover as a lifeguard at the Navy Club.

"_Red?_ Tony?" queried McGee.

A look of incredulity appeared on Tony's face. "Didn't you watch _any_ TV in the 90s, McGee?...I'm referring, of course, to that TV _classic_..."

"Babewatch, yes?" interjected Ziva Da-vid. The Mossad Officer seemed pleased to surprise them both.

Tony gave another look of incredulity, this time in Ziva's direction. "Well, actually.._Zee-vah_.. it was _Bay_watch, but that's a fairly.. pretty.. accurate description anyway." He began to reminisce, "...aaahhh the lovely Pamela Anderson in that red swimsuit and carrying those flotation aids around all day..."

Ziva looked at McGee for clarification. "Flotation aids?"

"I think Tony is referring to her...uh..." He moved his hands to in front of his chest area, his mouth pursed, hesitant to say the words.

Tony gave a brief look of annoyance at the insinuation. "Actually, _Probie_...I wasn't...but now that you mention it..." A dreamy smile appeared on his face, before he snapped himself back to the conversation. "No, I was talking about those cool orange plastic things they had...What were they called anyway?" He held up his hands, trying to mime the shape and size of the object in question.

"Rescue cans."

They all looked on in amazement as Gibbs breezed past them. Tony's mouth formed the unspoken question as to how the boss would know... Gibbs _never_ watched TV.

"_Tony_...get down to Abby...she's working up a background for you..." Gibbs began issuing orders. Tony cheered silently, raising his arms in a gesture of triumph – he had won the op. "_McGee._..we're going to need access to the cameras in the Navy Club pool area _plus_..." continued the senior agent.

McGee moved swiftly over to his computer, "..the tapes from cameras inside and out...On it, Boss."

"_Ziva_..."

"Yes, Gibbs." She turned, waiting for her instructions.

"...Do you own a bikini?" asked Gibbs, seemingly innocently.

Tony's eyes widened and a large smile appeared on his face at the look of uncertainty on Ziva's face. He ran his tongue suggestively along the edge of his teeth as he eyed Ziva up and down, still grinning. Gibbs slapped the back of DiNozzo's head. The grin vanished.

"Sorry, Boss," then with his eyes zooming around in his motionless head, "...just figured you for a one-piece kinda guy."

Gibbs fired off a '_you still here?_' look in Tony's direction. His message was received, loud and clear.

"Abby's lab – on it, Boss." Tony jogged off towards the elevator, but turned briefly to grin and lick his lips at Ziva again as he passed her. She returned his look with a death glare, before turning back to Gibbs.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to _like_ this assignment?" she asked. Gibbs responded by jerking his head to one side and feigning innocence. He sat down and, when she wasn't looking, flashed his own mischievous grin. Some days his job could be so much fun.

**NCISNCISNCIS**

"I don't know, Abs...it just doesn't sound right..._Dirk Wriggler?._...sounds like a porno star." Tony wasn't satisfied with the alternate ego Abby had created for him.

Abby looked a little bit irked. "Well, do you have any _other _suggestions, _Tony_?"

Tony eyed the Goth suspiciously. Something was wrong. Normally, Abby Sciuto was much more fun than this. He quickly forgot his concern as his creative juices started to flow. He remembered the conversation he'd just had upstairs.

"How about something ending in Hoff?" he suggested, but quickly changed his mind. "...No,... that's too obvious." He scratched his head. "Okay, I got it...what about _Mitch_? ...Mitch is a strong name, right?..._and_ it has the added bonus of being a nod to the character played by David HasselHoff." He looked enthusiastically at the Forensic expert.

"Last name?" asked Abby, remaining completely focussed and professional.

Tony shot her a disappointed look – how could she not be as excited as he was? He allowed his eyes to search her lab for inspiration. They took in the comparison microscope, the Mass spectrometer, the plasma screen, the computer hard drive. _Hard drive?_ He tried to form a name from it... '_Driver?.._Mitch_ Driver?_' He weighed it up in his head, mouthing it several times. Finally he nodded, seemingly satisfied, before offering it up for suggestion.

Monotonously, Abby said, "Okay, Mitch Driver...you are _good to go_." She hit a key on her keyboard and the information winged its way into cyberspace. She had created a whole new person whose details now shared space with all the other employees on the Department of Defence's database. She also printed out a hard copy for Tony to take with him so that he could memorise said details. She offered it to him. Tony reached out to accept it.

"You okay, Abs?...'cos you seem a little..."

"I'm fine." The reply was curt. Tony raised his eyes and turned to leave, silently mouthing an "_Okay then_." Abby obviously wasn't ready to share whatever was bugging her just yet and Tony knew when to back away. He left for the squad room.

Abby remained in her chair. She stared at her computer screen even though she wasn't currently using it - a sulk was beginning to form on her face. Her lab was unusually quiet. Normally she had some kind of music pounding out through the speakers – it helped her to think. Today, however, there was only the gentle hum of the machinery which surrounded her. She was very unAbby.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

"Talk to me, Ducky." Gibbs entered through the automated doors, which swished open as he strode purposely into the autopsy room.

"Ahhh, Jethro, I was _just_ about to _call_ you." The ME never failed to be surprised by Gibbs' uncanny knack of arriving at just the right time.

Gibbs leaned his head to one side and raised his eyebrows as if to signal to the doctor that he was listening. "Did Ensign Thomas Jackson drown?"

Ducky continued, "Er...no..._and yes_. Drowning is notoriously difficult to determine as an actual cause of death, made all the more difficult in _this_ case as our young Ensign here was unfortunate enough to suffer a rather nasty head wound."

"Accident, Duck?" Gibbs wanted to cover all bases, even though he knew what the answer was going to be. His gut told him so.

"That would be the obvious conclusion, Gibbs...but no...I wouldn't have thought so." The doctor walked over to the top edge of the table on top of which lay the body of Ensign Thomas Jackson. Carefully he turned the dead man's head to one side. "You see this mark?"

Gibbs leaned in to see what the ME was talking about. There was a distinctly concave area at the base of the skull. He nodded in acknowledgement.

The doctor continued with his report, "Yes, there is a definite indentation...To be thorough, and because I knew you would ask, I double checked the x-rays." Ducky made his way over to the light box on the wall. He pointed out several lines on the film of the dead Ensign's skull. "The young man suffered a depressed fracture to the base of the cranium...one central point with hairline fractures radiating outwards. This _main_ fracture tore into the dura matter of his brain causing several haemorrhages, which _in turn_ led to clotting."

"He died of a brain haemorrhage?" asked Gibbs.

"Strictly speaking, he suffered a Sub-dural haematoma, actually," clarified the doctor.

"So he _didn't_ drown." The older agent repeated his initial question, this time as a statement.

"As I said, Jethro...no _and_ yes...Drowning, as a primary cause of death, as I have previously mentioned, is _notoriously_ difficult to determine. It requires extensive _toxological_ testing as well a _diatom_ test of the body of water from which the deceased was pulled." He paused and noticed the senior agent staring at him. "I've sent samples up to Abby. "

Gibbs wanted a straight answer. His eyes flashed his impatience. Ducky seemed a little unnerved.

"...Er...yes...well..." He moved back over to the body, its insides fully exposed, "...upon internal inspection I _did_, _however_, uncover evidence of pulmonary oedema..." He gestured over the chest cavity.

"So he_ did_ drown?" Gibbs was beginning to get a little bit tired of swings and roundabouts.

Although he could sense his colleague's increasing frustration at not getting a straight answer, Ducky enjoyed drawing out his reports. He paused before opening his mouth to speak. Gibbs, on the other hand, did _not_ share that enjoyment and, before the ME could answer, the agent asked again.

"_Cause of death_, Doctor?" The tone of Gibbs' voice told Ducky to give it to him straight.

"_I_ believe that the young Ensign would have _undoubtedly_ died from the blow to his head...but it's quite possible that his death was brought about all the sooner by him being left face down and unconscious in that pool. I've sent brain and lung tissue samples up to Abby to check for intravascular fat globules...just to be sure...the presence of which will tell us whether or not the young man was alive when he went into the water."

Gibbs headed for the automatic doors. He stopped briefly as Ducky shouted after him.

"I also found traces of an orange substance embedded in the poor man's skull...Again, I've sent it to Abby for analysis.."

The doors swished open. Gibbs' voice was barely audible. "Thanks, Duck." And he was gone.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

The elevator doors pinged open and McGee stepped into the squad room. He walked briskly towards his desk carrying several video tapes. Tony looked up as he passed.

"Been to Blockbuster again, Probie? I thought we made it clear that you're supposed to go in your _own_ time, _not_ during work hours." He winked at Ziva, encouraging her to participate in the mockery.

"Very funny, Tony." Tim smiled sarcastically and held up his cargo. "Surveillance tapes from the Navy Club. Gibbs wants me to go through them, look for anything...hinky."

"Well, if you're looking for something _hinky_, McGee, you should pay Abby a visit." Tony glanced over at Ziva, who nodded towards Tim in agreement.

A flash of puzzlement flickered on Tim's face. "What do you mean? Is there something wrong with Abby?" He was concerned as he was extremely fond of the Goth.

Tony shrugged and narrowed his eyes. "You tell _me_, _McGee_..Did you do something to upset her again?"

"No...I mean...I don't think so..." McGee was unsure of himself. His eyes drifted upwards as he tried to remember if he had done or said something that might have offended his former girlfriend.

"Upset who?" Gibbs breezed past them.

"Abby, ..Boss," answered Tony, jumping up, but whacking his knee on the edge of his his desk. He squeaked and winced.

Gibbs, who had barely seated himself, stood up again. "Abby's _upset_?...Why?"

"Interesting question, Boss. Why don't we ask _McGee_?" Tony swivelled his head around and with both hands pointed at his less experienced colleague. Gibbs turned his gaze on Tim and stepped forwards.

"You've _upset_ Abby...McGee?" There was an intimidating quality in his tone. McGee immediately became nervous.

"Er... no, Boss...At least...I don't think I have." McGee was almost squirming under his leader's intense gaze. He tried desperately to think of a way to escape it. "Um...maybe I'll go and find out?" Gibbs was getting closer towards him with a '_probably a good idea_' expression on his face - he was very protective of Abby. Tim squeezed between the edge of his own desk and the partition wall to make a hasty retreat towards the back elevator.

"**McGee**!" shouted Gibbs.

Hesitantly, Tim returned. "Yeah, Boss?"

"Take these with you." The Senior Agent held out the video tapes that McGee had deposited on the desk. Tim took them tentatively and then hurried off to the elevator again.

Tony, who by this time had limped away from his seat and was standing just behind Gibbs, had a big smile on his face. He loved getting the probie into trouble. It was so easy to wind him up. He was just about to take his final step when Gibbs turned around and they almost collided. Gibbs glared and Tony sensed danger. He spun around quickly to head back to his own desk but wasn't fast enough and felt the impact of his boss' hand as it slapped the back of his head. "Thank you, Boss." He grimaced at Ziva, who laughed silently but snapped her eyes back to the paperwork on her desk before she, too, bore the brunt of Gibbs' dissatisfaction.

"Shouldn't you be at the Navy Club by now?" Gibbs growled at DiNozzo.

"On my way, Boss." Tony grabbed his gear and headed for the elevator. He didn't want to hang around to annoy his leader any further.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Abby was still wearing a grumpy expression when Tim arrived in her lab, armed with the video tapes. He took one look at her and knew instantly that Tony was right...for once. Something _was_ wrong.

"Abs?..." She looked up from her computer screen. "You okay?"

"Why does everyone keep _asking_ me that today?" she snapped.

McGee hesitated. "...Well,...maybe because you're not...acting...like...your usual... bouncy self...?" he suggested. His sentence was punctuated with tiny pauses.

"That's because I'm _not_ my usual bouncy self, McGee," she answered.

"Well I can see that." He racked his brain trying to think of the reason for her unhappiness. "Is it something _I've_ done...or said...?...because if _it is_ I'm..."

She interrupted him, "Believe it or _not_, _McGee_...not everything revolves around your stupid little insecurities." Immediately she regretted snapping at him. "I'm sorry, Timmy,... I didn't mean to take it out on you." She smiled weakly at him. He forgave her instantly.

"So...you gonna tell me what the reason is?" he asked.

She looked glum, trying to decide whether or not to explain. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"Okay..." She looked earnestly at him before beginning her explanation. "You know how Plastic Death are like my _most favourite _band ever?"

McGee nodded, his eyes encouraged her to continue, "Yeah...?"

"Well, I heard it online from my friend, Ana_stacia_, that _her_ friend, Juanita's, uncle's brother, _Jimmy_, found out that they are planning on splitting up after their final concert in Seattle next month." She had imparted the devastating news. She looked sadly at McGee for some response. He didn't quite know what to say. In fact, he looked stunned – he'd thought it was going to be something really _bad_, like a bereavement or something. Abby turned back to her computer, a frown creasing her brow. "You see? I knew you wouldn't understand..."

"Understand what?" Gibbs wandered in, placing a Caf-Pow down on the desk in front of the glum Goth.

"Apparently, Plastic Death are splitting up, Boss," replied McGee, with raised eyebrows.

Gibbs turned to Abby. He had a look of concern on his face, "You okay, Abs?"

She stood up and flung her arms around him. "I knew _you'd_ understand, Gibbs." He patted her gently on the back before turning to McGee, who was looking quizzically at the senior agent.

"What, McGee?...They're her favourite band..."

McGee displayed a '_nothing, Boss_' expression on his face. He shook his head slightly in disbelief.

"You looked at the tapes yet, McGee?" Gibbs was back on track.

"..Er... not yet..."

"Well what are you waiting for? Popcorn? The Ensign died at the poolside so he should be on one of those tapes, either arriving, or leaving!" His eyes told the younger agent to get a move on. "Oh and while you're at it, McGee, I want you to patch through a live feed to the plasma in the squad room."

"On it, Boss." McGee began tapping on Abby's keyboard. Gibbs turned back to the Goth.

"Ducky sent some samples up?"

"Yeah...The water sample is running through the mass spec, I'll run the orange stuff next... and the tissue samples are over there. I was just about to look at them under the microscope when McGee arrived." They walked over to the large piece of equipment. Abby continued to explain what she had done. "I stained the samples to check to see if there is any evidence of intravascular fat globules..."

"And is there?" asked Gibbs, eager to know.

Abby looked down the scope. "That would be an affirmative, Gibbs. You know what that means...?"

He finished the sentence for her. "Ensign Thomas Jackson was alive when he went into that pool...It _was_ murder. ..Okay, good work, Abs." He turned to leave, giving her another concerned look before heading for the door. She returned it with a look of her own that said, '_I'll be fine._' She waved weakly before joining McGee to view the tapes.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

DiNozzo had been looking forward to this moment. Baywatch had been one of his favourite shows; he couldn't wait to get into his red shorts and matching jacket and show off in front of the ladies. Things, however, had changed since the 90s, as had the uniform of the Navy Club's lifeguard. Tony cursed as he ambled uncomfortably towards the high tower seat. He was pulling awkwardly at the leg of the short sleeved, closely fitting shorty wet suit, that he had, finally, managed to get into. His walk was reminiscent of John Wayne's due to the fact that the suit pinched in places it had no business pinching. As he reached the tower and sat down he, begrudgingly, added the _pi__é__ce de resistance_ – a matching close-fit swim cap, similar in style to those worn by Water Polo players. More cursing left his lips. "_The Hoff_ never had to put up with this!" he grumbled.

The swim cap was important because that was where McGee had placed the earpiece through which Gibbs could utter instructions and updates to Tony. He had also placed a tiny microphone on the strap which was currently dangling close to Tony's cheek. The rest of the team would be watching through the CCTV cameras in the pool area, that McGee had patched into.

Tony could hear the tail end of Ziva's laughter. "Not a word, Da-_vid_!" he warned, as his eyes drifted up to a camera on the far side of the pool. He continued moaning, "I look ridiculous!"

Still laughing, Ziva said, "Awhhh, I think you look cute, Tony...just like _a_ ...uh, what are they?..." She clicked her fingers trying to come up with the right words. Suddenly she found them, "...ah ha...banana split, yes?" Tony heard McGee and Abby chuckling. Even Gibbs had an amused look on his face.

"Oh ha ha. Very funny." He wasn't amused. "Whose idea was it to put lifeguards in a yellow all-in-one, anyway? ... Much less one with red stripes down the sides." He couldn't believe what he was wearing. It was mortifyingly embarrassing, especially for someone used to wearing Ermengildo Zegna suits. Tony pulled another '_just you wait_' expression at the camera, before turning his attention to the pool. In his ear he heard Gibbs' voice.

"Remember, DiNozzo...if you have to enter the pool for _any_ reason, you need to remove the cap first."

Tony nodded in acknowledgement, "Got it, Boss." He was considering completing the _whole shift_ in the pool, at least that way he wouldn't be so glaringly 'banana' like. All thoughts of heroic rescues disappeared from his mind. He felt more like one of those inflatable boats that tourists rode at the beach. He shook his head, not quite believing his situation. "This should be _you_, McGee!" he muttered.

"Maybe,... but the Boss picked the best man for the job, Tony...". Tim couldn't disguise his snigger as he added, "...and that was you."

Ziva wiped another laughter tear from her eye. She moved back to her desk to carry out the background checks Gibbs had asked her to complete on Jackson and his predecessor. In the course of her investigations she discovered something very interesting.

**NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Abby was running through the tapes from the Navy Club. She had already watched two of them and was speed searching the third. Something made her hit the pause button and rewind. The tape was from the camera trained on the entrance to the Club. She pressed play and watched again at normal speed. Ensign Jackson exited through the door, bumping into someone, who then entered the Club. That wasn't what had caught Abby's attention, though. She continued to watch as Jackson was caught up in an altercation with a young woman. Swiftly, she picked up the handset and called Gibbs.

There was a swish and Gibbs strode over to the large plasma in Abby's lab.

"Whaddya got, Abs?"

"I was going through the _surveillance_ tapes when I noticed this..." She clicked a button and a still image of Ensign Jackson and the mystery woman appeared on the screen. She hit play. Gibbs watched as she continued to explain.

"They're arguing. He's asking her what she's doing there. She wants to know where they stand...Then he says something interesting, Gibbs. He says '_I thought that was made perfectly clear after our last encounter._'" She looked at the older agent for encouragement. He nodded. She continued, "Then he tries to leave and she grabs his arm...there's a little struggle..."

"I can see that, Abs..." Gibbs was looking at the screen.

"Yeah, Gibbs, but did you see what she shouted after him?" Abby knew he hadn't. Gibbs' eyes warned her not to push it. "She shouts, '_This isn't over!_'" Then she makes her way around the back of the Club." Abby waved her hands to gesture 'ta da'. "She _threatened_ him, Gibbs..."

Jethro stepped back and began to head for the door again. He paused as he reached the Goth and whispered in her ear, "Good work, Abs," before kissing her softly on the cheek and leaving. Abby stood with a '_pleased as punch_' look on her face. She had just given them a suspect .

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Ziva stood to greet Gibbs as he returned. She held up a file jacket.

"Abby's found us a suspect..." he announced. He grabbed the remote mouse for the plasma screen to the right of his desk. The image of the woman with Ensign Jackson appeared. Ziva gasped. Gibbs looked at her.

"I know who she is," she declared.

Gibbs just stared at her, a silent question on his face -_'You wanna share?_'

It took Ziva a few moments to realise that Gibbs wasn't _actually_ going to ask the question, but that she should tell him anyway...and quickly. She held up the file she had in her hand – the one she was about to show him before he announced they had a suspect.

"Her name is Melissa Bates. She is Jackson's former girlfriend." Ziva began to report her findings. "They were together for only a couple of months... but it would appear that was enough for Jackson."

Gibbs' face asked what she meant.

"He applied for a TRO against her 2 weeks ago...which...evidently..." She pointed to the image on the screen. "...she wasn't happy about."

Gibbs nodded, "Good work, Ziva..." Her findings had only served to strengthen his suspicions.

"That's not all, Gibbs...During the course of my checking, her name came up again...you want to know where?" she teased. It was a stupid question, Gibbs' expression said as much. "She also dated Petty Officer Duncan – the lifeguard Jackson replaced? _He _took out an injunction against her after only one month..._And_ he had her arrested for assault. The case was dropped but she has had _several_ TROs against her in the past..._Apparently_ the woman can't accept that no _means_ no."

Gibbs shook his head crookedly. There was the hint of a pleased grin forming on his mouth. "Well, what are you waiting for? ... Bring her in."

Ziva moved quickly back to her desk and retrieved her holstered weapon from the drawer. She picked up her backpack. Gibbs tossed the car keys to her.

"You're letting _me_ drive?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah..." was the brief response.

"Why?" She was confused, nobody liked her driving.

"..Because _I'm_ not coming. You're going alone."

"Oh..." She seemed a little bit disappointed but nodded her head and walked quickly to the elevator.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Tony was itching to get out his wet suit...literally. It was chafing in all the wrong places and it was making him sweat. He looked longingly at the water of the pool. Maybe he could just take a dip – cool off a little? His thoughts were interrupted by Gibbs' update.

"DiNozzo...we got a suspect. Woman named Melissa Bates. Ziva's bringing her in now...Anything to report at your end?" He watched on the plasma between Tony's and McGee's desks. There was a wry grin on his face as he observed Tony's awkward attempts to secretly scratch and adjust himself.

"Other than the fact that my_ 'guys'_ might never recover enough for me to have a family after this.." He pulled at the suit at the top of his thigh. "...No...Nothing happening here, Boss."

"Well...stay alert, DiNozzo." Gibbs didn't really need to remind the young agent but he did anyway. Tony had a knack for being easily distracted, especially when there were scantily clad women around.

"Yeah...'cos my country needs lerts...Gotcha, Boss." Tony pulled at the neck of the wet suit and stretched his neck, before returning his gaze to the few visitors at the side of the pool – most of them kids. He wasn't aware that Gibbs wasn't the only one watching him closely.

Along one wall of the pool there was a panoramic window. The view through it was of a grassy area with a few trees. Standing beside the trunk of a large oak, and hidden from view, stood a figure. They had been there for several hours now, watching and observing the actions of the Club's latest lifeguard.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Gibbs' phone rang. He answered it quickly. It was Ducky letting him know that he had now concluded his analysis of the autopsy findings for the previous victim.

"Are you telling me Petty Officer Duncan's death _wasn't _an accident, Ducky?" asked Gibbs, as he walked through the automated doors.

"Well it doesn't _appear_ to have been, Jethro...You see this small contusion at the base of his skull?" began the ME, pointing to one of a number of photographs which he had placed on one of his metal autopsy tables.

"It wasn't caused by the edge of the pool." Gibbs sensed the response already. This was beginning to feel a bit like déja vu.

"No, I don't believe it was. The edge of it is slightly curved," continued Ducky.

"And the edge of the pool is straight," added the agent.

"My point exactly, Jethro...Also...it's difficult to tell from a photograph, but the x-ray I had them send me of the Petty Officer's skull shows a comminuted depressed fracture." The experienced doctor walked over to the side wall and pointed to an area on the x-ray film that was illuminated on his light box. "...You see how there is a central puncture point with the bone splintering and pushing inwards?...Look familiar?" Gibbs nodded. Ducky continued, "...his head was hit by something, Jethro...but it wasn't the edge of a pool. The blunt force trauma to his head would have caused the skull to depress against his brain, thus tearing the dura matter and causing a sub-dural haematoma."

Gibbs' eye was firmly focussed on the film he was looking at. "How'd the other ME miss it?"

Ducky's face had an air of understanding written across it. "Well, I can only _speculate_ at best , but the circumstances in which the body was found...and the fact that there didn't seem to be anything amiss at the crime scene..." He raised his eyebrows.

"All the more reason to look deeper, Duck." Gibbs wasn't interested in excuses.

"Well, yes, I know that's _your_ philosophy, Gibbs...but it would have been _easy_ to overlook. Any medical examiner could have come to the same conclusion...given the evidence."

Gibbs nodded his head in a half-salute towards the experienced doctor, "_You _didn't."

Ducky conceded. "Ahh, yes...well, that's as maybe, but I still think it was an easy mistake to make."

"Cost another lifeguard his life."

"Yes...yes, it did...tragically." Ducky looked back to the table containing the body of Ensign Thomas Jackson.

Gibbs was satisfied...for now. "Ok...thanks, Ducky." He left through the automated doors.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

McGee had joined Abby back in her lab. She was still trawling through the tapes he had brought from the Navy Club. This time she was looking at the one from the poolside. It was taken the day Ensign Jackson's body had been found. Truly speaking it should have been the first one she watched but the labels weren't especially clear...add to that the fact that she was still grieving the loss of her beloved band - Plastic Death – and she figured Gibbs would understand.

McGee stood in front of the plasma. He was watching a young boy splashing about in the pool. Tim tilted his head to one side; there was something wrong with this picture. The boy's splashing became more frenetic - he was struggling. Abby joined McGee's side while they watched as a tall, athletic man ran from the far side of the pool, dived in and retrieved the boy, who was coughing, spluttering and crying. Ensign Jackson, seemingly, hadn't noticed anything until this man had burst into action.

They watched the ensuing altercation between Jackson and the boy's rescuer. And they saw the rescuer being dragged off to the changing rooms. McGee looked at Abby with a puzzled expression, tinged with disbelief at what he had just seen.

"How the hell did Jackson get a job as a lifeguard?" he asked. Abby's face was concentrated.

"Never mind that, McGee...rewind the tape...go back to the rescue..." She focussed intently on the screen.

McGee followed her instructions. "What is it, Abs?"

They watched as the rescuer passed the boy out of the pool and joined him. As he began gesticulating at Jackson, Abby shouted for McGee to pause it. He did.

"Now zoom in on him..." She pointed at the rescuer. A beaming smile appeared on her face. She ran back to her computer and began tapping on the keyboard. The image of Jackson and the woman appeared again. She pressed rewind, right back to the moment that Jackson came out of the Club's entrance. She paused the frame and commanded the computer to place the image up on the plasma, side by side with the magnified image of the boy's rescuer.

"Nice catch, Abs!" exclaimed McGee. The man who had rescued the boy and remonstrated with the dead lifeguard was the same man who had bumped into Jackson, heading into the Club.

Just at that moment, there was a gentle ping as the Mass spectrometer announced its analysis was complete. Abby had been running one of the samples Ducky had sent up. She ran over to the machine and retrieved the printout.

"_Yes_!" she shouted triumphantly.

McGee raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in question.

"I know _what_ the murder weapon is!" she proclaimed in a sing song voice.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

It had taken Ziva an hour to locate Melissa Bates, and even then it wasn't at her home. She found her hovering outside the Navy Club, with tears streaking down her cheeks and a small bunch of roses in her hand. The woman had struggled when Ziva had challenged her, but she was no match for the Israeli's training. The journey back to NCIS was tense; not least because the woman insisted on screaming obscenities about Ziva's driving technique.

When they arrived at the squad room, Ziva all but booted her out of the elevator and dragged her over towards Gibbs.

"_This_ is Melissa Bates. What do you want me to do to her..?" She corrected herself quickly, "..sorry, .._with_ her...What do you want me to do _with_ her?" Gibbs smiled wryly, he was proud of the way Ziva was restraining herself from killing the suspect. He nodded towards the back of the squad room, gesturing towards the room used for interrogation. Ziva pushed the crazed woman into the small room and shut the door behind her as she left. She entered the room next door – the observation room. She watched as Gibbs entered the interview room and silently sat himself down on a chair across from the, still screaming, woman. He placed a file on the desk and clasped his hands over it. He begin talking quietly. The woman calmed down immediately. Ziva observed closely as her boss continued to question the woman.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

McGee and Abby raced out of the elevator, eager to give Gibbs their findings. The squad room was empty. Tim looked curiously at Abby for a minute. He noticed Ziva's coat on her chair and came to a conclusion.

"They must be in interrogation." The two colleagues ran towards the interview rooms. McGee opened the door to the observation room. Ziva turned slightly to see an excited looking probie and an even more excited looking Goth staring back at her. Ziva's expression, however, was one of dissatisfied disappointment.

"_She_..." she pointed at Melissa Bates, "...didn't do it."

"We know!" came the joint reply.

Ziva looked at them curiously. McGee raised his eyebrows and matter-of-factly said, "We need to speak to Gibbs...now."

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Gibbs stood looking at the images McGee was bringing up on Abby's plasma.

"Talk to me, McGee" he demanded.

Tim laid out the case for him. "Lieutenant Commander Peter Garbutt, Boss." The image showed the close up from the CCTV tape. "He was seen arguing with Jackson on the day the Ensign was murdered, when a young boy almost drowned. _Jackson_ missed it and _Garbutt_ stepped in to save the day." He paused. Gibbs' eyes encouraged him to continue. "We didn't think anything of it at first because, when we _checked_, the security guard played it down, said that Garbutt was a _hero_. " Gibbs glare suggested that he thought he'd taught McGee better than that. Tim gulped and continued, "...Er...when we watched the tapes again..." He received a dig in the ribs. "Sorry,...when _Abby_ watched the tapes again she noticed Lt. Cdr Garbutt re-entering the Club at the time Jackson was leaving. We didn't notice it at first because of Melissa Bates who starting arguing with Jackson..." He paused for breath. "I did some digging...Lt. Cdr Garbutt had a son called Adam..."

"_Had?_...McGee?" queried Gibbs. A painful memory of his daughter, Kelly, flashed through his mind.

"Adam Garbutt was six years old when he died...He drowned at the Navy Club 14 months ago. The Lt. Cdr brought charges of homicide by neglect against the life guard in post at the time..." He waited for Gibbs to digest the news.

"Well, why'd he just start killing life guards _three_ months ago, McGee? Why not kill the lifeguard that failed his son?" Gibbs didn't want any cracks in the case.

"Well, Boss...The case came to trial and the life guard was found innocent of all charges..._four_ months ago. _That _was the trigger. Lt. Cdr Garbutt declared at the time that he would get his revenge on, and I quote, '_All those useless pieces of crap out there that call themselves lifeguards_.'"

Gibbs looked astonished that no one had picked up on that before. McGee had already anticipated his boss' reaction and headed him off. "I guess they just put it down to the ramblings of a grieving father..."

"Why kill Petty Officer Duncan?" asked Gibbs.

"Again...I checked...the Petty Officer was written up twice for failing to carry out his duties properly...And I guess the incident with the boy was the trigger that caused him to kill Jackson."

Gibbs patted the young agent on the back. "That is _fine work_, McGee...You got an address?"

"Right _here_." McGee held out a piece of paper.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Elf Lord?..Let's go get the son of a bitch." McGee beamed before turning and giving Abby a thumbs up, mouthing '_Couldn't have done it without you_' in her direction. She smiled and mouthed back, '_I know_!"

Gibbs had disappeared through the doorway to get the elevator. He stuck his head back into the lab and shouted, "Are you two done?" He gestured with a nod of his head that they should follow him.

Back once more in front of the plasma which showed a bored and fed up Tony, Gibbs picked up his headset.

"Tony?"

DiNozzo looked up at the camera.

"We got our guy. Ziva's on her way to pick you up.." He issued the silent order in her direction. She responded by grabbing her coat and weapon. He continued, "McGee and I are gonna pick him up." He grabbed his own weapon and holster from his desk drawer.

"What about me, Gibbs?" asked Abby, "What do you want me to do?"

"You've already done it, Abs." He kissed her on the cheek. She beamed at the recognition that Gibbs knew _she_ had broken the case, _not_ McGee. The agents left.

Playfully, Abby picked up the headset and spoke to Tony. In a sultry voice she said, "Hey there, _Big _Banana!" The innuendo wasn't lost on DiNozzo. He shook his head in a shy, but proud manner before replying.

"Hey, Abs. What's up?" He was glad of the conversation. He'd been pretty bored since the last visitors had left. The pool was now closed but he'd had to remain in post, waiting for Gibbs' instructions.

"Nothing...just wanted to tell you that Ziva's on her way. She should be with you any time now."

"Great!" He had become extremely disillusioned with the whole 'lifeguard – hero' idea, and he desperately wanted to get out of that damn wet suit. "I'd better get dressed. See ya!" He waved towards the camera as he pulled the cap from his head. It was a relief to release his head from its sweaty hell. Abby waved back. She watched as he descended the tower, stepping on to the tiled floor of the pool side. She saw him pick up the orange rescue can that was hooked on the frame of the tower and playfully reconstruct a slow motion run à la Baywatch. She laughed at his antics. Tony was playing up to the camera – it was the first light relief he had had all day. He returned to the tower and was replacing the rescue can when she saw something that made her shout his name. There was a man creeping up behind him.

"_**Tony**_!" She shouted again but it was no use, DiNozzo had removed his cap and could no longer hear her. Abby grabbed the phone handset and dialled frantically.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Ziva inhaled sharply as she stepped out of the car. The autumn nights had turned cold. She rubbed her palms together and blew into them as she made, briskly, for the entrance to the Navy Club. The guard on the door requested her ID. She flashed it at him and told him her business. He allowed her to enter.

Once inside she made her way to the pool area. At the men's changing room door, she paused. Her cellphone was vibrating in her pocket. She withdrew it and saw the number for NCIS on the display.

"Hello?"

"**Ziva**!" Abby blurted out the rest, not waiting for a reply, Time was of the essence. "Tony's in danger. Garbutt is in the pool with him _right now_!" There was a slight pause before she screamed in horror, ".._**NO**_!"

Ziva didn't respond. She dropped her phone and ran, weapon drawn, through the changing room doors to the door which led poolside. As she burst through it she could only see one person...and it wasn't Tony.

"**Freeze!**" she shouted. "**NCIS... Federal Agent...stop where you are!**" The figure seemed resigned to the fact that he'd been caught. He raised his hands in the air and dropped to his knees. She ran over to him and immediately cuffed him to the lifeguard's tower. Her eyes scanned the area for any sign of Tony. A small cry emitted from her lips as she caught sight of his lifeless body floating in the water. Without a second thought, she dived in.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Abby was pacing frantically up and down in front of the plasma, biting her nails. She had watched as Garbutt had surprised Tony and whacked him across the back of the head with a second rescue can. Tony lurched forwards, splashing into the pool. He didn't move. Abby had screamed loudly. She couldn't peel her eyes from the screen. She muttered to herself, " Come on, Ziva...Ziva, come on!" She almost cheered when she saw the Israeli burst through the door, weapon in hand. As Ziva ran over to the Lt. Cdr. Abby was shouting a new set of instructions at the plasma. "**NO**, Ziva..._forget __**him**_...Tony's drowning...**Get TONY!**" She was completely oblivious to the fact that Ziva had no way of hearing her. She cheered again as she watched the Mossad agent dive into the water and grab Tony's lifeless body.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

The car screeched to a halt as Gibbs and McGee flew out and sprinted to the Navy Club entrance. They had been on their way to Lt.Cdr Garbutt's home address when McGee had received a garbled call from Abby on his cellphone. Gibbs had immediately swung the car around, flinging McGee from one side of his seat to the other, and headed in the direction of the Club.

With weapons drawn they entered the pool to find Ziva frantically performing CPR on an, as yet, lifeless Tony. McGee hurried over to her. "What can I do?" he asked, his voice thick with concern and a hint of panic.

In between breathing air into Tony's lungs, she shouted, "Call the paramedics!"

McGee whipped out his cellphone and made the call. Gibbs stood glaring at Garbutt, who was weeping softly to himself. "If _he dies_..." he warned, "...the pain of losing your son will be _nothing_ compared to what I'll do to you."

Ziva was now beginning to panic. She had been pumping Tony's chest for several minutes now and had been covering his mouth with her lips, trying desperately to breathe life back into him. She willed him, with every part of her body, to survive. She shifted her position. Gently she straddled him and pushed down on his abdomen – a version of the Heimlich maneouvre. It worked. He spluttered back into existence, water flooding from his lips. His body juddered and shook as he was wracked with coughs. Ziva slid off him and turned him onto his side to prevent the water from aspirating into his lungs. She sighed deeply with relief.

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Back at NCIS, Abby had stopped breathing. She had been joined by Ducky and Palmer and all three had watched nervously as Ziva tried to resuscitate their friend and colleague. Ducky placed a comforting arm around the Goth's shoulders. She was taller than him so it wasn't the most comfortable of positions.

"Have faith, Abby...he'll be fine." he tried to sound reassuring but he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, Abby or himself. His concern grew the longer he watched the Israeli's struggle to keep Tony alive.

When Tony began coughing and his limbs began moving about, there was an audible collective sigh. Abby turned into Ducky's arms – her bottom lip began to tremble and the tears started to flow. Now that Tony was showing signs of being okay again, she was able to release the emotion.

"There, there, Abigail...he's fine...he's fine."

**NCISNCISNCISNCIS**

Tony was fine...and was making better progress than Ziva thought he would. Gradually he sat up, with a little assistance from McGee and the Mossad agent. Tentatively, he touched the area on the back of his head that had received the blow. He winced loudly. Ziva's face reflected the wince.

"Does it hurt, Tony?" she asked.

"Yes, _Zee-vah_...of course it hurts...I just got whacked with a ...with a..." He looked around to see what he had been whacked with. Gibbs held up the flotation device.

"Rescue can," he stated simply. There was a look of sorrow and condolence on his face.

Tony was horrified at the thought that such a coveted object – an object that had saved so many lives in the hands of Mitch Buchanan on Malibu beach – could be used as a weapon of destruction. "No..._not_ the..." He turned and glared at the Lt.Cdr. "_How could you_...?"

Gibbs exhaled a brief laugh. '_What _was_ I worried about_?' he thought to himself.

The paramedics arrived and they helped Tony to his feet.

"McGee...go with him to the hospital..." began Gibbs. Tony shot him a look.

"I dunno, Boss...Can't Ziva come instead? ...I mean...what if I need mouth to mouth resuscitation again?" He eyed the two male paramedics and McGee as he added, "..No offence, guys.."

Gibbs shook his head, "Di_Nozzo_..." he began.

**NCISNCINCISNCISNCIS**

Gibbs turned out his desk lamp and looked across the squad room at Ziva. She was just finishing off her report. He stopped in front of her desk.

"Go home, Ziva...been a long day."

"Yes it has..." she agreed. She paused and looked up at her boss, opening her mouth as if to speak.

"What?" asked Gibbs.

She looked at him. "Something has been bothering me all day..." she began.

Gibbs looked at her. His eyes told her to '_spit it out._'

"I'm curious...why _did _you ask if I _owned a bikini_?"

Gibbs exhaled with his smile. He tilted his head to one side. He shrugged. "Just wanted to slap DiNozzo..." he answered then walked away to the elevator. Ziva laughed quietly to herself before turning off her own desk lamp and joining him.

THE END

Hope it was worth the wait! PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!


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